


Everything Before

by simplesetgo



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Crossover Pairing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kahlan deals with Jon's decision to join the Night's Watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Before

**Author's Note:**

> Legend of the Seeker/Game of Thrones crossover, set in HBO-verse. Inspired completely by [this](http://frompillow.tumblr.com/post/5283523107/you-remember-all-those-winters) manip from the talented [frompillow](http://frompillow.tumblr.com). Beta-read by my favorite enabler, [shimmeryshine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmeryshine).

  
Normally, the pervasive and bitter cold at the wall seemed enough to keep one from thinking of anything else. But in the leagues leading up to her arrival, Kahlan wasn’t thinking about the cold. She’d made this trip before—once a year, the Mother Confessor traveled to the wall to ensure everything was as it should be—but never before had she been so keen on arriving. She led her small company on horseback quickly under the guise of wanting the visit over with. It didn’t hurt her deception that hers was a mostly ceremonial task; if she didn’t trust the Lord Commander to run the watch he wouldn’t hold the position in the first place.

At dusk, she passed slowly through the gates with forced restraint, the massive timber posts covered with a thick layer of hoarfrost like everything else. They were expecting her; the Night’s Watch of Castle Black was assembled in the courtyard. Two score men dedicating their entire lives to ensuring the continued safety of the realm.

Their grizzled commander separated himself, making to approach her with steps sure despite his age. Kahlan’s horse stamped his feet on snowy ground while she searched the downturned faces of the men before her. She breathed relief when she didn’t find a certain one. Maybe he had changed his mind about taking the black; maybe it was a mistaken message somehow.

“Mother Confessor,” the Lord Commander greeted her gruffly. “Welcome to Castle Black.”

She dismounted, shifting her thick, mottled furs closer around her neck. Many of these man had not seen a woman in months; maybe years. “Commander Mormont,” she replied, looking around the courtyard. “I trust someone has the watch?”

He cleared his throat, visibly displeased at the implication the question needed asking. “A fresh recruit,” he said. “Snow, from Winterfell.”

Kahlan’s heart sank, even as she offered a small smile in apology and acknowledgement.

****

With the heavy creaking of timber, the cage settled at the top of the ladder. Kahlan was relieved to step off; she always felt like the thing would break and send her plummeting half a league straight down the side of the wall. But the short ride to the top was uneventful, as ever.

The frost was thicker up here, and the wind harsher. Kahlan walked through the carved channel, the ever-present snapping and groaning of ice echoing around her. Then, after turning a sharp corner, she saw a black-cloaked form standing tall next to a caged and blazing fire, right at the edge of the precipice.

“Jon?” she called out, her steps quickening.

The man turned, his dark curls tossed by the wind, and by the lack of surprise in his features it was obvious he had been expecting this very moment. “Mother Confessor,” he said, dipping his head slightly in deference. Kahlan stopped a pace away and frowned.

“Did you swear an oath to insult old friends as well?”

“Kahlan,” he corrected himself repentantly.

She embraced him then, and Spirits, she had _missed_ him. His strong arms encircled her back and held her close, and she breathed against his warm neck, eyes closed. It wasn’t until Jon gently pushed at her that she relinquished her hold on him. Then it was her turn to look a little sheepish. “It’s been a long time,” she explained, and he simply nodded.

There was a tenuous moment where their faces were close, where Kahlan merely had to tilt her head, to part her lips, and she would taste his kiss. It was in his eyes that he wouldn’t stop her, that he would meet her, but Kahlan pulled away, sudden bitterness clouding her expression. “Why are you here, in this place?” she asked.

“Because they’ll have me,” came the prepared reply.

Kahlan bowed her head, placed her hands on his. “Tell me you have a better reason than that.”

He hesitated. “Because I was a man without a world to live in. Because a man without duties is not a man at all.”

“The wall is dangerous. You couldn’t have found your duties somewhere…safer? Somewhere closer?”

“Closer to what?” he pressed. They both knew the answer; he just wanted her to admit it out loud for once. So she did.

“Closer to King’s Landing. Closer to me.”

His jaw clenched, but she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. “What would be the point? Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan couldn’t answer that.

****

Jon had been given watch for the entire night alone, as punishment for angering Ser Alliser in the training yard one too many times. It hadn’t taken Jon and Kahlan long to figure out it was a blessing in disguise. The barracks were not a place given to privacy, even the one cleared out for Kahlan and her retinue. The top of the wall, on the other hand, was. Once her official duties were performed, all it took was the Mother Confessor fancying a second trip up for her own reasons; no one had the authority to question her.

She brought Jon a warm meal and they sat side by side—with ample space between—while they caught up on the various sundries that together formed their lives. An hour later found them sitting considerably closer, and the adjacent fire’s warmth ensured it wasn’t strictly for comfort.

Kahlan soon gave up on pretense, shifting to settle against Jon’s side. With her on his left and a very steep drop to darkness on his right, he had nowhere to go. An arm reaching around her shoulders signaled his surrender. Clearing her throat, she looked past him and out to the endless moonlit wilds. “You gave up when you took the black,” she said, taking his hand meaningfully. “Do you remember all those years ago? You took a different oath: that we would find a way.”

“Neither oath I took makes any difference,” Jon said tightly. “You are the Mother Confessor of this realm; I am a bastard son. You shouldn’t even be seen with the likes of me. Your own burdens already prevented us from being what we wanted, and your gift would destroy me if we were. Should I go on?”

“No. I just…hoped I wouldn’t find you here.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t apologize. It was one of the things Kahlan loved about him. He never apologized for doing what he thought was right.

She looked at Jon then, at the shadows on his face from the fire, and realized just how selfish she was. She couldn’t be his, no matter how much she wanted to, and he couldn’t be hers. But letting go of that fanciful dream didn’t have to be so painful—he’d chosen a place in the world to make his own. He’d chosen who would benefit from his strength: everyone. She offered a sudden smile. “And what should we do now? We can feel sorry for ourselves for what we can’t have, or we can make the very most of what we do have.”

Jon threw her a look; to anyone else it would be unreadable, but Kahlan saw the sudden lightheartedness underneath his eyes. “Which is?”

“We are both here, now,” she said softly.

“Alone,” Jon added, and that rare and roguish smile threatened to break over his features. He kissed her before it had a chance. Kahlan’s eyes closed in rapture as she took his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his, Jon’s cheeks rough and warm against her palms. They could do little else, but that was no reason to deny themselves this much.

****

As always, with no further promise, her body kept its expectations in check. She wasn’t sure if Jon was so lucky, but it was her that finally slowed and stopped things, her lips kiss swollen and her tongue tired and her hands having explored everywhere they dared. Jon sighed, pulling her head to his shoulder, where she went willingly. The heat from his body was all the more comforting against the frigid air, their thick cloaks and furs tangled as one. “Promise me,” she mumbled against his leather chestpiece, “that you found your way to some lucky girl’s bed before you took the black.”

He cleared his throat, paused. “A few.”

Kahlan pulled her head up to narrow her eyes at him. “A few? You know you can’t lie to a Confessor.”

Jon closed his own dark eyes, rendering her ability useless. “A few,” he said solemnly, and opened them again.

“You’re a fool, Jon Snow,” she teased. She settled back down in his arms, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as it always did when she spoke of such things. “If I didn’t have my gift, if you didn’t have your oath, we could have been…each other’s firsts, tonight.”

“If I hadn’t taken the black, we wouldn’t be here tonight,” he pointed out, his own regret lacing his tone despite the words.

She squeezed his hand—the one not combing leisurely through her hair. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For keeping the rest of us safe,” she said. “Thank you.”

Tired from her journey, it wasn’t long before Kahlan’s eyelids grew heavy and her limbs lethargic. She nestled her head into the curve of Jon’s neck, as familiar a place as any she’d ever known. The movement seemed to break Jon of his own reverie. “I’m glad you came here,” he said suddenly.

Pulling his arm tighter around her waist, Kahlan mumbled, “I’m glad I found you here.”


End file.
